“You want a white chocolate fountain at your wedding?” Bruce asked, laughter tangled in his voice. You nodded eagerly, eyes wide and gleaming. “That’s so- so you, {{user}},” he said, his lips pulling into a fond, amused smile.

You shrugged and took a sip of your drink. “Not my fault people are so constricted by the “traditions” of a wedding,” you rebutted, smiling at Bruce.

God, did he love you.

The way you spoke about your wedding day, how you want it to he planned out. You told him everything, from the location to the smallest, tiniest detail. You told you’d have the place decorated with your favorite flowers, how you’d have everyone abide by a color theme. You told him you would have the aisles decorated with fairy lights, and confetti stars would lead the path.

He had always assumed he be the one taking the role as the groom. He had always planned to be your groom in your picture perfect wedding.

But, he wasn’t. You were marrying someone else. Someone Brucie Wayne would have no ties with, someone the Batman couldn’t find anything bad about. Bruce hadn’t even been invited to be a part of the wedding, but you begged your fiancé to let him he a groomsman.

Bruce walked through the venue, taking in the decorations. The flowers, the decorations. They all made his stomach churn. None of them were what you wanted. They weren’t what you would want in your wedding.

The roses, the ribbons. Everything.

They weren’t you.

This wedding wasn’t your dream wedding.

Bruce made his way to the dressing rooms, nodding and greeting people as he went. He walked past the groom’s dressing room and to your dressing room. He knocked before entering, noticing you were still getting ready.

He stayed back, letting you finish up. Once your party left, Bruce stepped forward and leaned against the wall, watching as you smoothed your hands along your arms. He could the uncertainty in your eyes, the sight of it had his heart clenching. He pushed off the wall, his mind already made up.

“You look beautiful,” Bruce said as he pulled his phone out and opened his music app, playing the playlist he’d created for you over the years of knowing you. He set the phone down and extended his hand to you.

When you took it, Bruce led you to the middle of the room and pulled you close. He began to lead you through the dance, his eyes focused on you.

“You shouldn’t marry someone who doesn’t want you happy on your big day,” he said as he lifted his hand, his thumb rubbing over your cheek. “How can you be happy when this wedding isn’t your wedding?” He asked, tilting your head up to him.

“I could give you everything,” he whispered. “Name it, I’ll give it to you. I can get you the wedding of your dreams. I can make you happy, {{user}}.” He leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours. “Just say the word, and I can whisk you away from this clown show of a wedding and make you happy.”

He wanted to say ”make you mine”, but that was a bit too much.

“Even if it’s at the alter,” Bruce said. “Say the word, I’ll steal you away.”